"Keep her off shore, Jack," cried Harry Girdwood.

"Right."

The wind and rain had half blinded young Jack, and although he had said
"Right," he steered decidedly wrong.

He could not see where they were going.

"Look out!"

Harry Girdwood only just spoke in time for young Jack to take heed of
the warning, for a minute later and they shot past some sharp, jagged
rocks, into which they would inevitably have dashed but for a lucky tug
at the rudder at the very last moment.

Now the roar of the wind and waters had just begun to lull a little,
when a loud cry for help was heard.

And then, for the first time, they perceived that a boat had just been
launched by a boy at not more than thirty yards along the beach, and
being carried out to sea by a huge receding wave, had become
unmanageable.

They could see with half an eye that the boy had no skill in handling a
boat.

"Help, help!" cried the strange lad, waving his hand in distress
towards their boat.